


a subtle, simple perfect

by authenticaussie



Category: Carmen Sandiego (Cartoon 2019)
Genre: F/F, also carmen is SUCH a trickster she's so much fun to write, don't fall in love with thieves they'll probably do silly things to prove your loyalty??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-15
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-10-28 19:09:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17793089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/authenticaussie/pseuds/authenticaussie
Summary: After the events following Devineaux's kidnapping, Julia finds herself hard-pressed to hold onto the belief that Carmen isn't a villain. Her instincts as a cop tell her there's more at play here than simple thievery, but nobody else is inclined to believe her.And it's not like Carmen Sandiego will just waltz up to her and start up a chat.(Spoilers: that's exactly what she does.)





	a subtle, simple perfect

**Author's Note:**

  * For [emygrl99](https://archiveofourown.org/users/emygrl99/gifts).



> Me: man I really shouldn't post all of these things all at once, I don't want to send people to many annoying emails  
> Also me: it's international fanworks day I do what I want
> 
> Title from the song 'If I Could Tell Her', from the musical "Dear Evan Hanson"

“Don’t look back,” says a voice in her ear, soft and cautioning, and someone’s arm slips through hers, linking them at the elbow, “but did you know, there’s someone following you?”

Julia’s first instinct is to disobey the warning; she barely catches herself and looks over to the woman next to her instead. “You?” she asks, and the woman laughs, the sound low but airy. It travels like fingertips up Julia’s spine, and she pushes her shoulders back, over-correcting her posture in an effort to get rid of that distracting sensation.

The woman looks at her, then smiles, some mischevious, almost-cruel thing, and she leans further into Julia’s shoulder. She’s pretty, casually, with dark brown skin and darker eyes, and although her makeup is a little off - her eyebrows are too dark for her curly hair and her lipstick is bright, bright red - it doesn’t detract from her obvious beauty. That and how close she is are what’s distracting Julia more than the thought that someone is apparently following her. She’s a cop, after all. There are lots of people who’d be following her; Devineaux, trying to get her attention or her company without admitting it; anyone from ACME trying to pass along information discreetly; even VILE might have operatives tracking her, now that Carmen had been revealed as one of their agents, and one with a vendetta against her and Devineaux.

 _If_ Carmen was working for them, added some soft part of her that remembered Carmen sitting across from her on the train, skin like gold in the late afternoon sunlight, Carmen sitting across from her, leaving the Magna Carta on Devineaux’s seat, Carmen sitting in front of her, close enough to touch and curt enough that Julia hadn’t even thought about trying.

“I understand that you’re quite cute,” says the woman by her side, as though she’s musing on it, and Julia comes back to herself with the knowledge that red is now visible on her cheeks, “but why would someone so adorable and mousy have a stalker?”

“Approximately one in every six women has a stalker, m’am,” says Julia, instead of thinking about _cute_ and _adorable,_ and then she realises that telling a woman the percentages of having a stalker isn’t a comforting fact, and she adds, “but I’m a cop. There are plenty of reasons that someone would be following me, and most of them are not for nefarious intent.”

“Nefarious intent,” says the woman, and it sorta sounds like she’s laughing, but when Julia glances over, the woman’s expression is somber, and her hand is over her mouth, likely to hide her distaste.

“Don’t worry,” she says quickly. “Everything will be fine.”

“With you to protect me, how could I expect otherwise?”

A shiver runs up Julia’s back again, and she clears her throat to distract herself from it. “Well, if you did feel unsafe, I could escort you to the police station.”

The woman jolts, and this time Julia doesn’t miss it; her lips curve up over her hand before she gets her grin back under control. “I’m sure there’s nowhere safer for me to hide...from this _stalker,_ than by your side.”

“...your faith in me is flattering, m’am.”

The woman looks at Julia from the corner of her eyes, but then she smiles properly, her hand slipping from her mouth to rest over Julia’s arm. When it comes to rest, the movement of her fingers as they settle one-by-one is so distractingly graceful that Julia loses her next train of thought.

“You never did mention why a girl like you - bar being a cop - would have a stalker,” says the woman while Julia pulls her gaze away from the woman’s slender fingers and glances to a shop window to try and spot the person tailing her, unable to find anyone. “Do you have any theories?” A soft hum accompanies the woman’s words, and then her hand slips from Julia’s arm, and Julia spots a familiar blue card flipping between her knuckles. “Does it perhaps have something to do with ‘ACME’?”

Julia can’t help it; she tenses, her eyes going wide as she jolts away from the woman. “Where did you get that?” she demands, and then quickly pats down her pockets, trying to identify if hers is missing. The woman laughs at her panic, and flicks it back at her, eyes sharp.

“Don’t worry, I don’t steal from innocent mice.” She keeps walking, her hands now in her pockets, and Julia follows like the woman has sunk a hook into her belly. She needs to know how much this stranger has guessed about them, how much she knows, and how real that ‘follower’ threat had been. “People out to kill me...that’s a different story.”

“I’m not out to kill you,” says Julia, and the woman glances back and grins, her lipstick still so vibrantly bright red against the colour of her skin.

“Out to arrest me,” she says, just as Julia’s mind makes the connection.

“ _Carmen Sandiego.”_

Carmen applauds, laughing, and Julia darts forward, reaching for Carmen’s wrist. As though she has eyes in the back of her head, Carmen leans right, snagging Julia’s wrist instead, and pulls her off balance so she stumbles on the cracked sidewalk.

“Careful,” Carmen says, pushing her so that Julia can stand up properly, and frustration makes Julia lunge again. Carmen’s too flexible to be caught, however, and neatly side-steps Julia’s uncoordinated flailing. “Scraping your knees hurts, and your suits always look so professional. Ruining a good outfit is an awful pain. I would know.”

“You only have one outfit,” Julia snaps, and Carmen laughs again.

“Yes, but I look very good in it. Ruining it is inconvenient.”

She forces herself to take a deep breath, slow and purposeful, and then she opens her eyes and looks at the thief in front of her. “Carmen Sandiego, what do you want?”

“Lots of things,” Carmen says immediately. “A date that won’t try to kill or kidnap me, a bouquet, _The Lies of Locke Lamora,_ just fun things like that, you know?” Carmen’s expression shifts slightly at whatever look is on Julia’s face, and her tone is softer when she continues. “From you, I need information.”

“I’m not going to tell you anything,” Julia says immediately, and Carmen gives a depreciative laugh.

“I thought you wouldn’t,” she says, “but I wanted to try. Sometimes I get lucky.”

Julia pauses, and her tongue flickers over her dry lips. Unable to help herself, she asks, “Often?”

Carmen stares at her, and for a moment embarrassment curls in Julia’s stomach, burning hot and uncomfortable. Then, Carmen smiles slowly, without teeth. “Not in that way. I’m a little picky.”

“Why do you steal things?” Julia blurts, instead of asking, _picky how_? and Carmen’s smile widens.

“I’ll trade you,” she offers, and somehow she has Julia’s ACME card again, held up between two fingers. “Tell me what this is, what it’s for, and I’ll tell you that.”

Julia winces, but doesn’t even bother to scramble through her pockets again. She swallows hard. It’s childish, she knows, but she still doesn’t stop herself from asking, her voice tiny, “Promise?”

“...Promise.” Carmen slings the card back at her, and Julia catches it between her palms, looking down at the bright blue and wondering if she should regret this.

“It’s- a key card. An identification card, for the Agency to Classify and Monitor Evildoers.”

“And I’m an evildoer?” Carmen says, laughing, but Julia doesn’t smile back at her; her expression is set hard, firm, pulling her back from being drawn into Carmen’s bright amusement.

“Why do you steal?” Julia asks, and Carmen takes a deep breath that she lets out in a heavy sigh.

“It’s what I’m good at,” she says, and shrugs. “And the people I steal from...they deserve to be taken down a peg or two.”

“ _Why_?” Julia asks, unable to deny the desperate frustration that enters her tone, and Carmen raises a finger.

“Ah, one for one,” she cautions, and then she has her grappling hook in her hand and she’s aiming at the buildings near them. “But it was nice meeting you again, Jules,” says Carmen, and she grins, cocky and self-assured, the silent challenge to _catch me if you can,_ always, unfailing present _._ But there’s something sweet in it too, unexpectedly soft, as though the challenge is an invitation, an open, outstretched hand.

She doesn’t take it, and then Carmen is gone.

Julia is left standing in the middle of the street, wondering if the meeting really was _nice_ , and unable to forget Carmen’s arm, linked with hers as they strolled down the sidewalk of her city.


End file.
